Every Day Waiting for You
by enchantedink13
Summary: "Of course she hadn't wanted to wait for him. She was beautiful, sophisticated, honest, stunning in every way imaginable. And he was a criminal who'd been selfish enough to con her into falling in love with a false version of him." Neal reflects on Kate leaving him in prison.


**Every Day Waiting for You**

"I could die for some palatable coffee."

"First thing we'll do once you're out." Kate's smile was wide and genuine and touched her eyes for the first time in too long. It felt almost like tempting fate to venture into the world of _once you're out_ phrases, so many ways to end those three words of endless possibility. But it was worth the uncomfortable newness of crossing into that realm of hope and planning, worth it when it made Kate smile like that.

Even across the clouded, dust-coated glass, Neal could see the brilliance of her anticipation. Kate had waited a long time to smile that way again. Neal had been always sharply aware that he wasn't the only one serving out his four year sentence. She was suffering the confinement just as much as he had, probably more so, because she was entirely free to go and yet somehow trapped all the same, which was the worst kind of entrapment. Neal's thoughts refocused on her face and the light still alive in her eyes, and he wondered, for what must have been the millionth time, what it was he had that kept her there, appearing faithfully for the brightest hour of his week, for the past almost-four years.

"Maybe not the _first _thing," Neal amended, his eyes flickering hungrily over Kate's lips, supple and pink and fascinatingly too full on the bottom.

"I know the guards here probably have a painfully boring existence, but that doesn't mean you have to give them such a show," Kate said, flushing at the intensity of his gaze and running her tongue self-consciously over her lower lip, perfectly oblivious to what the gesture did to Neal.

"Don't know what you mean," he whispered, breathless.

"I mean stop undressing me with your eyes." But even as she said it, her body leaned involuntarily towards him, shoulders sliding forward like a feline shifting into a crouch, her eyes eager and watchful over his face - an animal waiting for the perfect moment to attack. She'd waited so long. And they were almost done.

Neal didn't bother trying to hide the satisfaction he took in the contradiction between her body language and her words.

"When you're out," Kate nearly purred, her eyes so thrilled that Neal could forget the glass between them, "I'm going to handcuff you with your favorite tie and-

"Who's giving the guards a show now?"

Kate's mouth turned up into a wicked grin. "We both know that the cameras have no audio."

"You canvassed this place?"

Kate shrugged and succeeding in looking deceptively innocent.

"You know this is a maximum security prison, right?"

"Oh, _Neal_."

Neal knew well enough the faintly wistful tint coloring Kate's tone to fill in the unspoken words that would have followed her sentence, had they been by themselves. _If anyone managed to break out of here, it would be you._

He was sorely tempted to tell her the truth, tell her that he would try in a heartbeat if she just asked him to… he could already taste what her answering smile would be like… but before he could even consider what those words would mean, a guard rapped on the door and yelled, "Five minutes, Caffrey!"

They both glanced at the door in unhappy recollection that there was a world existing outside the two of them, and the moment of total abandon and optimism passed.

"I'll try again to get them to let me bring you some coffee next time," Kate offered, the conversation returning to mundane matters, more of a distraction from the impending goodbye than a real remark. "If I let that guard flirt with me, what's his name, I bet he'd let me take a cappuccino in to you." And there she was, back to mischievous plotting. She was a master at the art of distraction.

"Clemenza?"

"Yeah. Him."

"I'm touched that you'd make that kind of sacrifice for my coffee," Neal tossed her a wink.

"Anything for you." Kate flashed a brief grin, and Neal wondered if they'd moved from the world of playful cons into reality with those three words. Five years ago, when he'd been Nick Halden, he'd have known without an instant of doubt that they were real. When their lips met in that emptied warehouse, he knew with steadying certainty that she had never stopped meaning it, not during his search for the music box with Alex, not even afterwards when she'd been busily avoiding him while he committed art crimes like a little boy trying to get the attention of a schoolyard crush. But that vow of _anything_ had worn over the years he'd spent in jail, and now any sense of time and space was distorted. His love for her had become the only constant he had remaining to measure other things against, and even then, everything came up short when it was laid next to what he felt for Kate.

"_Neal_," he suddenly became aware of Kate saying, "I'll see you next week." Her voice was urgent, more concerned than what was warranted by the statement had there been nothing behind it. _Don't look so serious_, Neal knew she was really telling him. _I'm not going anywhere._

"I know. Thank you."

Kate didn't offer anything to that other than a sweet smile, because, really, how did you expect your girlfriend to find a nice way to say, _Yeah, sure, no problem that I've spent the past four years keeping my life on hold for you._

"Love you." It felt good on Neal's lips to say it, one of the few things between them that could be given and received at face value, with no silent message lurking behind it in the shadows.

"You, too." Kate glanced apologetically at the cameras, clearly all too aware of their ever-intrusive presence - even if there _was_ no audio on them - and Neal allowed a smile to warm his eyes, telling her, _It's okay. I know it, even if you don't say it out loud. _After all, she'd always been private, hard to reach - it was part of the mystery that had made him pursue her at first, before he knew all the other, better reasons why she was more than worth it.

Kate's face relaxed as she saw that he understood, and she pressed her fingers to her lips and then to the glass barrier between them. "Be safe."

Neal mirrored her movements, fingers against glass, imagining what her fingers would feel like if they could touch. It'd been so long since he'd been able to touch her, and his whole body ached for the physical contact. "There's not much trouble I can get up to in here," he answered Kate.

"You'd be able to find a way."

Neal ducked his head, laughing with her, and had forgotten about the clock when Clemenza unlocked the door and stepped into the visiting room. "Time's up, Caffrey," Clemenza ordered, his little eyes, lost in the vast circle that was his face, fixed on Kate, even as he spoke to Neal.

Neal kept the ghost of his laughter frozen over his face to cover the sharp disappointment piercing the happy bubble that he'd managed to isolate himself and Kate within for the past hour. He knew she hated long, melancholy goodbyes, and even after hundreds of visits, this part of it only ached more each time, like a wound with its bandages always ripped off before it'd ever healed fully. It was good that they'd ended laughing. Besides, it wasn't goodbye. She'd be back in a week.

Kate gave Neal a fleeting smile over her shoulder before taking a wide birth around Clemenza, who was leering at her, to the door. It wasn't until the door had swung shut behind her that Neal realized his fingertips were still pressed against the glass wall. He drew them away and curled them into his palm, his skin cool from the glass, strikingly different from the glowing warmth that he once associated with nights spent lying across his couch, Kate drawn flush against his body, so close that they might have melted into each other's cores.

* * *

"Pretty Boy, you've got a visitor."

Neal's head snapped up in surprise at the sound of his prison nickname - it was a lot better than many of the names Clemenza had bestowed upon other inmates - and he glanced over to double check the rows and columns of tally marks lined neatly across the west wall of his cell, counting down the days to when he'd finally be done. "It's a Tuesday."

"You want a medal for figuring that one out?"

Neal narrowed his eyes and tried to evaluate Clemenza's expression. He seemed sincere enough. "Kate comes on Wednesdays." Neal knew better than to think that Mozzie might have overcome his paranoia of government institutions and dropped by for a visit, and there was nobody else who'd have come.

"Well, she's here on a Tuesday. You going to see her or what? She's waiting, and she looked in a hurry."

Neal's skepticism dissolved as his wariness turned to concern. "I'm coming."

Clemenza unlocked the cell, and Neal walked ahead of him to the visitation room, the way there a familiar path by now.

"The way you act like it, Pretty Boy, you'd think visitation was a punishment," Clemenza commented.

_It is if it means that something's wrong._ Aloud, Neal smiled and said, "No, I appreciate it."

"Thank your girlfriend. She can be very persuasive."

Neal was grateful that Clemenza had been walking behind him, because he couldn't control the way his eyes widened at that in surprise and worry. Sure, Kate had joked about flirting with Clemenza in exchange for coffee privileges, but they'd both known the entire time that it was just that - a joke, a way to pass the time until he was free and they could make real plans, ones that mattered. Nothing good could have been the reason she'd need to see him with such urgency.

Meanwhile, behind him, Clemenza chuckled and prodded Neal in the back with a thick, meaty finger. "Speechless, Pretty Boy? Never thought I'd see that day."

"Don't get used to it," Neal gasped out, managing to scramble around for an answering quip just in time.

"Here you go," Clemenza said as they arrived at the visitation room, reaching out to scan his identification card and unlocking the door. "Keep it under twenty minutes, okay? Technically your one hour per week doesn't renew itself until tomorrow and I better not get into trouble over you."

"Sure." Neal was barely listening as the door swung open to reveal Kate on the other side, pacing, clearly agitated and impatient.

In three strides, he was seated in front of the glass and looking anxiously up at her, but Kate remained standing, her eyes flickering back and forth nervously, as if unwilling to settle on his face.

"What's the matter?"

She finally looked at him and took a deep breath. "I can't do this."

"What?"

And now, completely contrary to her distraction of moments ago, she was staring at him intensely, her gaze piercing through him and immobilizing him, pinning him in place. Or maybe it was just the collapse of everything he thought had been his world that was making him feel like he couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't _breathe_, couldn't do anything at all except wonder how this could be happening, how he hadn't seen it coming. It should have been so clear from the beginning. _Of course_ she hadn't wanted to wait for him. She was beautiful, sophisticated, _honest_, stunning in every way imaginable. And he was a criminal who'd been selfish enough to con her into falling in love with a false version of him.

"I'm done." Kate's voice didn't sound cold enough to match the words, and for a moment, Neal almost didn't believe her. She didn't sound done; she sounded very much there. But then he looked at her face, expressionless and detached, as if _his_ Kate was already gone, and Neal reminded himself painfully that it made perfect sense for her to be done. By all rights, he should have lost her long ago, when he revealed that Nick Halden didn't exist. It was finally happening. He'd gotten too comfortable - somehow done the impossible and taken her for granted. He'd blinked, and now Kate was disappearing.

He was on his feet without realizing it, reaching out for her even though the gesture was futile. "Kate! Wait-" his voice choked off and he stopped, unable to do anything but watch her slipping away from him and let her go, because what exactly did he have a right to ask her to wait for?

_Nothing_.

"Goodbye, Neal." And now her voice was more than cold enough to match her face.

_She must have resented you for so long for keeping her waiting when she can be so much better than a convict's boyfriend._

The door shut behind Kate as she left him behind, and Neal stayed still, unable to move, and not quite sure that he wouldn't shatter if he tried to. He'd spent so many months in the beginning, while he hid the truth of who he was from her, fearing exactly this. And now it was real. _Too _real. His mind wouldn't _work_, as if she'd taken away something essential from him, something without which he wasn't Neal Caffrey anymore.

"Tough break, huh, Caffrey," Neal was vaguely aware of Clemenza saying as he entered the room. "Guess not even the pretty boys can always keep the girl."

And not even that stung enough to goad Neal into saying something back. He nodded numbly and rose stiffly, allowing Clemenza to guide him back to his cell. Once there, he sat on the edge of his cot and stared at the marks on the wall and tried to muster the energy to stand and make that day's tally, but he couldn't bring himself to care. What was the point, when time itself had lost its meaning? Getting out of prison was worthless when he had nothing on the other side to go to. Before, he'd pursued Kate across her new cities and her hidden identities because of the off chance that she might still want him, in spite of everything.

But this time, she'd made it clear that she didn't.

_If you offered to break out when you thought of it, would she have stayed?_

And suddenly, there was purpose again. Her words - why hadn't he heard it when she'd said them, before it was too late? - _"Oh, Neal_._" If anyone managed to beak out of here, it would be you._

Maybe stealing a Raphael wouldn't win Kate's attention this time. But that didn't mean he couldn't try other ways.

That night, Neal made a mark on his wall after all. The next morning, he didn't shave. Kate had waited nearly four years for him. And now that she'd given up, there was no time left for him to wait.

* * *

**A/N**: Title comes from the song "A Thousand Years," by Christina Perri. Thanks for reading, and feel free to check out my other two White Collar stories, "Forsaken," and "All You'll Ever Be." Reviews are amazing - I'd love to know what you thought of the story. Also, I'm taking prompts for one-shots. Anyone?


End file.
